


whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.

by glorioushyunjin



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Character Held Captive, Hostage Situations, Insanity, Kidnapping, MENTIONS OF RAPE BECAUSE WOOJIN OWNS A BROTHEL, Murder, Sad Bang Chan, Violence, im writing this at 3am, this is just a small drabble ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:22:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorioushyunjin/pseuds/glorioushyunjin
Summary: chan is severely unstable and woojin is a piece of shit. murder.





	whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.

**Author's Note:**

> MENTIONS OF RAPE AND SEX TRAFFICKING. STAY SAFE.

woojin rips the gag out of chan’s mouth, throwing it to the ground beside the chair.

“where. is. he?” woojin growls, pacing around chan. the boy in question, felix, was back at chan’s ‘hideout’, safe and sound, free from the walls of woojin’s brothel. chan neglects to reply, not that he would anyway, but he’s preoccupied, fingers curled around a small knife. with chan's arms bound to the back of the chair, woojin doesn’t see the blade, nor does he see the way it flashes in the dim light, beginning to saw at the ropes that hold chan captive.

woojin slaps the man, earning a pained hiss. he grabs a fistful of blonde, curly hair, pulling chan’s head up to look at him. 

“you’re never going to lay your hands on that boy again,” chan spits, teeth gritted. he looks up at woojin, eyes burning with pure, indisputable hatred.

“you won’t get any use out of him.” woojin drops chan’s head, letting it swing. he faces the other way, back turned on chan. “the fucker shied away from any and all clients that approached him. bloody waste of space.”

chan’s face contorts in repulsion. 

“you think that i broke him out of this shithole to use him as a fucktoy?” chan shrieks.

after a beat of silence, woojin snorts.

“not for sex? it was out of the goodness in your heart? why didn’t you steal all of my boys then, if you’re so righteous?” though he’s facing the wall, his voice booms through the chamber.

“you know damn well why.”

indeed. woojin knew that chan and felix had history. the two grew close years ago during the ‘great war’ (recruitment in wartime was mandatory for able-bodied males ages 13-55 and refusal was considered treason). two young boys forced into war, they only had each other. it was them, not just against the enemy, but against their troopmates, against their officers, and against the world they had been thrust into. chan had feelings for felix, but he doubted felix felt the same… and so they remained friends. big whoop. they survived the war and chan never fessed up.

“and don’t try to guilt me by mentioning the other boys.” chan swallows thickly. quieter, he says, “i wish i could save all of them, but i just can’t... no one can. there are too many.”

woojin spins around, leaning in too close, hands on either armrest of the chair chan sat in.

“just so we’re clear, i have no plans of letting you go. i might make my clients a special offer… it’s not very often when a guy of your physique…” the elder runs a hand up and down chan’s bicep, “…comes through a place like this.”

chan recoils, cringing away from woojin’s touch. how fucked up does one have to be to buy and sell other humans and call it a business? a fucking danger to the civil world, that’s what woojin is.

the knife, already halfway through the rope next to the knot, is ever-diligent. chan’s heart rate increases, adrenaline rushing through his weary body. he’s covered in a layer of sweat, giving a slight sheen to his skin. he’s got eyebags for days, his limbs are shaky, and his breathing is heavy, but he’s not going to give up. he’s going to get out of here— for felix.

“and could it be that you fancy the boy?” woojin drawls. he didn’t wait for a reply. “you must know that he’ll never return your sentiment. a boy of his stature? with a man like you? laughable at the least.” woojin turns back around, hands held primly behind his back. 

he hadn’t even noticed the tears threatening to fall from the corners of chan’s eyes.

“p-piss off,” chan says weakly, voice choked with emotion. his lower lip quivers as he furrowed his brow. woojin knew exactly how to knock the wind out of him in one go.

chan’s movements behind his back stop. he turns the knife in his hand, gripping the handle in his fist. the blade points toward the ground as he anticipates what he’s about to do. the ropes drop to the floor.

woojin begins to turn around, seemingly prepared to make another stinging remark, but he’s cut short. chan has risen from the chair, lunging forward. the stab, aimed at woojin’s back, has landed in the man’s ribcage. chan doesn’t miss a beat.

he twists the knife, tearing through tissue.

“you bastard,” woojin gasps, clutching his side.

chan yanks the blade out, flinging blood to the floor. he swings his foot under woojin, knocking the man to the ground back-first. first, chan stomps on woojin’s flailing legs. he holds an ankle down with one foot and, with the the other, he drives his heel down onto the man’s shin. a crack pierces the air before woojin lets out a whimper. chan staggers back, looking down at his hands in fear. he falls into the chair that he was bound in, and sobers up. that man over there, lying on the ground, whining like a little bitch, has ruined so many lives. he snatches boys up off the street. he sells them to pedophiles to be raped and tortured. he endangered felix and he’s stolen the childhoods of countless children. a beast lays before chan right now.

chan regains his balance, knife in hand. he grabs the rope and gag still on the ground and swiftly kicks woojin in the gut. he crouches down, tying the rope around both of woojin’s wrists. he then shoves the gag into the man’s mouth with full eye contact, almost daring him to resist. chan traces the knife down woojin’s face, cutting a clean line towards the man’s jaw. blood rises to fill the cuts. chan is breathing ever deeper, eyes wide and mouth twisted into a frightening half-smile. his tears never cease.

when he gets to woojin’s neck, he inhales sharply. he slices messily, watching the scarlet liquid spill. he cocks his head with a jerk, staring intently at the stream. his eyes flit to woojin’s face to find that the man is staring at him, wide-eyed. a quick fix, chan thinks. he plunges his knife through both of woojin’s eye sockets, bursting the water-filled spheres like grapes. woojin lets out a muffled wail, blood seeping through the dirty gray gag between his teeth. his face opens up like a burst oil well, liquid leaking from every crevice, only the beaten frame left. chan then reaches down woojin’s chest, ripping off the white-stained-red button-up shirt. he carves into the pectorals, separating skin from muscle and then muscle from bone. woojin's mutilated neck gurgles as he tries to shriek, pathetic spurts of crimson pooling around his head. behind the ribcage, shockingly close in reach, is the frantically-beating heart of our dear sex trafficker. chan lets out a sob, driving his knife down between woojin's ribs. it enters the heart, blood filling up the cavity in woojin’s chest. it stops beating, but chan doesn’t stop stabbing. over and over and over again. for a while, there is nothing but blood. blood on the floor, blood on the walls, blood on his hands. chan sits back on his heels, eyes glazed over, face seemingly frozen in an expression of mingling horror and bloodlust.

“felix, felix.” he finally weeps, kneeling now. his vocal chords almost betray him, words caught in his throat. the knife clatters to the floor. he's reduced to hysterics, voice high and tin-y as he gasps for air. he clutches his face, nails digging in so hard that they threaten to cut through tissue.

“felix, if you knew what i’ve become you would only hate me.”

chan lowers his head as blood pools before him.


End file.
